Breach
by Plouton
Summary: Some things are meant to be broken. Piñatas. Glow sticks. Bad diets. Smoking habits. Records. Rules. The oppressive military regime of a two and a half thousand year old system that governs the world of the dead. It's a good thing, then, that I am a master of breaking things.
1. Prologue: Don't you know I'm starving?

**Breach**

Prologue

 _Don't You Know I'm Starving_

Dying was never the plan. I was _supposed_ to live a long and prosperous life as a fiscally stable individual with a house, a car, maybe a family, and definitely a dog.

But then… Well… The details don't really matter, do they. Because here I am, lying in a hospital bed hooked into beeping machines and medical drips and dying.

I'm _dying._

I can hear my family talking. Hushed whispers. Broken please and sobs. Time passes like a dream. Days feel like seconds, contracting into pinpricks of loneliness and fear, before expanding seconds stretching for an infinity and fury and grief fill my bones.

They are going to pull the plug. They haven't talked about it, but I know it's coming all the same. They are saying goodbye.

Don't know you I'm still here? I rage against the confinements of my failing mind. I spit and hiss and curse. How can you do this to me? Don't you know I can hear you?

Please don't. I'm not ready to go yet. I haven't had enough. Lived enough. Seen enough. It's not _fair._

I didn't feel the respirator switch off, but the burning liquid fire that ran from my chest to my toes, to my fingers, to a body I hadn't felt in weeks, told me I was dying. I can feel myself slipping.

Slipping through my skin like sand and silk.

I don't want to die.

…

…

…

I'm starving.

How can a dead person starve? I don't know. I can't think. I'm so _hungry_.

The sensation claws up my throat –what throat, I have none- like bile. My universe contracts around me, knives in my soul, in my guts.

If I were alive I could eat.

I want to be **alive** _._

…

…

…

Small one, I am sorry. I don't want to go. But don't you know I'm starving?

I'll devour you whole.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

So this is a very heavy start to a hopefully not as heavy story.

Bleach was actually my first ever manga, so I can't believe I've gone so long without writing anything related to Bleach. I mean, yes, I fell out of the fandom because of the sheer toxicity present, and I am not really a fan of most of the story, but I still feel like I should write something.

So here I am with a brand new SI OC story! Yay!

Please do me a favor and don't comment on the length of this upload. Yes, it's short. It's a prologue. The real first chapter will be up in a day or two.

I would really appreciate any comments, so as always, please review!

My tumblr is currently deactivated so the only way to get in contact with me is via my PM box, so feel free to drop in there too if you want to chat.


	2. Yesterday I was so clever

**Breach**

Chapter One

 _Yesterday I was so clever._

I was born on July 17th, 19 minutes after my sister.

Name: Arisawa Tomoe.

Hair: Black.

Eyes: Brown.

Special Skill: I can survive Death.

* * *

"Tatsu, tatsu!" I chant at my twin, wobbling over to where she's sitting. My pudgy fingers wrap around the banister railing as a support. She squeals as I approach and pushes herself backward, sliding easily on the floors.

"Not gun get me, Tomo!" She giggles, as I flounder after her on my stubby legs.

"Oh yeah?" I retort, throwing myself at her and landing just shy of her feet. I poke her toes and laugh at her shrieks. "Y'ur it!"

I roll away, forgoing walking for the much faster action of crawling until I reach the couch. I use it to haul myself to my feet before pattering down the hallway pursued by my sister who also scrambles to her feet.

"Catch me if you can, Tatsuki!" I call over my shoulder and scamper into the kitchen to hide.

My parents watch in amusement as Tatsuki tears into the room after me. My mother is leaning against the kitchen counter, a protein shake in her hand and her training gi still on. Dark strands escape her ponytail and her eyes crinkle. It's hard to tell, but I think both Tatsuki and I get out looks from her. We have the same black hair and sharp grins. Tatsuki also has her brown eyes, but I have Dad's grey ones.

My father is in front of the stove, stirring something in a large pot. Oh, I hope its curry. Dad makes the best curry, and I'm hungry.

"Up, up!" I demand, pulling on my mother's pants. She acquiesces with a chuckle. One of my hands twists into her gi for a better grip and I pat her cheek. "Thank you!"

"No fair!" Tatsuki says, "I can't reach you. Y'ur too high!"

I stick my tongue out. "That means I win and you lose."

"Don't be rude," my mother chastises and blows a raspberry into my shoulder. I squeal at the ticklish sensation.

"I'm not rude. I'm right." I say with all the authority my 2-and-a-half-year-old voice can muster.

It clearly isn't very much because my mother leans over to pick up Tatsuki too, allowing my sister to slap a hand on onto my face. "Tag!"

I laugh at the satisfied look on my twin's face and let her have the win. Look at all that maturity.

* * *

Mother takes Tatsuki and I to the bakery down the road that we frequent. It is a homey place with wooden counters and tables and always smelled of fresh bread. Big glass display cases hold the myriad of breads, pastries, and cakes.

A bell above the door tinkles when I push it open, leading my families charge into the small store. "Good Morning!" I say to the staff behind the counter.

The young boy at the cash register returns my greeting with a bob of his head, black eyes flash from behind bleached blond locks. "Hello Tomoe-chan, how are you today?"

"Good!" I say, leaning on my tiptoes to see over the counter. "You need a haircut, Daisuke-san."

He laughs. "Is that so? Hello Arisawa-san and little Tatsuki-chan." He greets my mother and sister.

"Yes so. Tats, tell him!"

Tatsuki nods decisively. "You do. Y'ur hair's so long its brown on top." She tells him, matter of factly.

He laughs again wiping his hands against his green apron. "I guess you're right."

"We're always right," I say.

"It's our s'perpower," Tatsuki adds, before attaching her face to the display case.

The second person, an older mousy lady with salt and pepper hair and a sharp western features leans over the display case to watch us with amusement. She's odd but nice. She's almost always at the bakery, behind the counter or in the kitchen. Sometimes she even sits at one of the corner tables in front of a cold cup of coffee that I've never seen her drink, but she always smells of it anyways. She must drink a lot of the stuff when we aren't here.

"I wan' that one," Tatsuki points at a swirling pastry covered in icing and cinnamon. It looks pretty good. But I came here for a brownie and I won't leave with anything less.

"Brownie, please!" I add my order to Tatsuki's.

"Anything for you two," Daisuke agrees after mother nods her consent.

Then something odd happens. Without pausing, or even acknowledging his coworker, Daisuke reaches over to the other side of the case to slide open the door, right _through_ the small woman. A hole in her abdomen disperses in small fuzzy particles around his arm before reforming when he removes his hand to grab a pair of tongs.

My jaw must have dropped or something, because Daisuke laughs again. "That's a funny look, Tomoe-chan. Do you like the new sliding doors that much?"

Oh, yes, they did have hinge doors before didn't they. What an irrelevant detail to remember right now. I nod absentmindedly and lean over to whisper in my sister ear. "You see the lady right?"

She shoots me puzzled look. "Lady? Ami-san only works Wed-nes-days and th'rsday."

"No." I hiss back, "The one right there."

Tatsuki looks at me lost for a moment before, "Oh! We have a new friend," she announces. "Mama, she's a lady. Bakery lady. With a crown." She frowns for a second. "Tomo, do ladies wear crowns?"

I'll take that as a 'no', she doesn't see the lady right in front of us. I shrug. "I don't know." I let Tatsuki flesh out the rest of our imaginary friend that she thinks I made up. Tatsuki tells me that Rei-hime, she was named, has an army of lizard samurai and a fan that's as tall as her because she hates the heat as she drags me out of the bakery behind her.

Boring conclusion: I'm going crazy.

Fun conclusion: My mind is so Matilda powerful that I can properly picture imaginary friends now.

I tell Tatsuki that Rei-hime she has grey hair and no fan but she might have a lizard army, and she smells like the best coffee on the planet. I wave at Daisuke on the way out, a brownie clenched in my fingers.

I try to move a pencil with my mind later that day and am very disappointed when the pencil refuses to budge.

* * *

I takes me another year to realize that the phenomenon I saw with Rei-hime wasn't just an over active imagination. I started noticing more and more oddities the longer look for them.

Some people don't quite walk right. They walk as if the floor isn't as solid as it is for me, some omit walking entirely in favor of hovering over the ground. Others passed right through walls and doors without flinching.

It wasn't until I saw one young man crouched in the corner of a side street. Gaunt cheeks, round nose, and dark eyes stare sightlessly at passerby's. Blood covering his clothes and running up his sleeves. I didn't say anything, too scared by the sight. Instead I demanded my father pick me up and buried my face in his shoulder until we got home.

The news that night showed the young man's face. He committed suicide, slitting himself from wrist to elbow in an alleyway behind his apartment.

I saw a ghost.

I check the closet before I go to sleep, and then I check under my bed. Tatsuki follows suit and checks under hers, even though she doesn't know what I'm looking for.

I leave the lamp on, illuminating the walls in an orange glow and stretching the features of our room into imposing shadows. I can imagine bloodstained hands and pain skin reaching through the walls. I can see the dark tendrils of hair slither from the rooms corners. I turn the lamp off. I'd rather not see.

I can't fall asleep. Instead I lie completely still, staring at the ceiling and listen to Tatsuki's soft snores. Beyond the borders of the house I can hear the soft clanking of chains, the thumping footsteps of feet, and the screeches and wails of ghosts.

The roof creeks and I remember dying.

Was I like that? Pale and sickly and slipping through the walls like spiders.

I feel hollow.

* * *

I get over my ghost freak out surprisingly quickly. Must be that childish resilience.

The ghosts haven't done anything to hurt me or anyone I care about in the months since I realized they were ghosts, and they never did anything bad before then either. They are safe, if somewhat unnerving to see, but I've adapted.

I don't jump anymore when one drifts through a wall, nor do I shiver when I need to walk through one.

Tatsuki and I leave handpicked dandelions in the streets for the ones that haunt our neighborhood and we even bring Rei-hime incense. Daisuke told me that a woman died in the café after having a heart attack but it happened before he started working there. He's left for university now.

By the time Tatsuki and I turn 5, I have the whole ghost thing under control. I think my life is pretty good! Tatsuki and I even convinced our mother to let us start taking karate classes.

This, my friends, is when my life goes to hell.

You see, up until this point I've been operating under the idea that I got lucky and simply reincarnated into a child who was born the same moment I died. The dates lined up after all, and I didn't really think about it beyond that.

"Tatsuki, how do you tie the belt?" I hold the strip of white fabric towards my sister who hastily grabs it and wraps it around my waist.

"I can't wait until we get yellow belts. I'm gonna get it before you, you here." She babbles, "I heard you need to do 200 push-ups in a row to get a black belt. I can do 6, which is so many."

"Uhuh," I twist the belt until its comfortable. "I want a red belt. It's the prettiest."

"It's not about being the prettiest. It's about being the best," Tatsuki says.

"Well then I'll be the best with a red belt!" I say, before dashing away from Tatsuki to line up with the other beginner students to start the lesson.

Tatsuki jabs me in the side when she joins me. I grin at her.

"Are you two sisters?" The master approaches us before grabbing my arm and dragging me to the other side of the lineup. "You should practice with other people, that way you make some new friends, alright? Here," He nudges me towards another kid, "You'll be partners for today."

I pout at being separated from Tatsuki but turn to say hi to my partner anyway. He's a chubby little kid, a little shorter than me, with round cheeks, brown eyes, and the most obnoxiously ginger hair I've ever seen on an Japanese person before. I didn't even know hair _came_ in that color.

His eyes are focused on me but he's quiet. Maybe he's shy?

"I'm Tomoe," I say, skipping straight to my given name. I'm gonna punch this kid in the face before the hour is up, and I think is important he knows my name before I do that.

"My mum says its rude to use a person I just mets first name."

"Don't care," I say.

"But my mum—"

"Don't care 'bout your mum either. I'm Tomoe. Who're you. Its rude not to introduce yourself."

His mouth forms a little 'o' as he processes my argument. "Oh, I'm Kurosaki Ichigo."

Like the auto solve button on my solitaire app, everything falls into place. My sister Arisawa Tatsuki, the ghosts that haunt the streets and howl at night, and the town name, Kurakara.

I've been reborn in a shonun manga.

I punch Ichigo in the mouth.

* * *

I slide around my opponent's sloppy punch and use his forward momentum and outstretched arm to neatly flip him over my shoulder and onto the floor for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Yield?" I ask, offering my battered opponent an olive branch, even as I haul him to his feet. Mousy brown bangs are stuck to his forehead, slick with sweat and a beautiful purple bruise is blossoming on his flushed cheeks where I socked him earlier in our spa. His gi sat crookedly on his shoulders and his belt had loosened considerably.

In contrast to his disheveled appearance, I looked nearly as fresh as when todays karate practice started a short hour ago. This, I thought as I watched the mousy boy suck in big gasps of air, is what being totally outclassed looks like.

In all honesty, it wasn't his fault he was partnered with me. The only two in the dojo who could match me (with the exception of the master) were my sister and Ichigo. And even then, he's yet to ever beat either of us in a spar.

"One more round, Arisawa-san," the boy panted out, pulling himself into a starting position and I had to commend his dedication.

I nodded in acceptance and fell into my own pose. I didn't wait for him to strike first, and instead feinted to the left, my strong side. He reached out to counter but I dropped into a crouch, pulling his legs out from under him and completed a rotation back to my feet. My opponent lay, panting and slightly dazed on his back and I took that as a sign to end the spar.

"Good match, uhh," I pause.

"Akiyama Hokuto, and to you Arisawa-san" he reminds me, bowing.

"Thank you, Akiyama-san." I return the bow and leave the mat, waiting on the side of the room for Tatsuki to finish beating Ichigo into the mat.

"Hurry it up you two, or we're gonna be late for our first day." Ahh, never in the history of the universe has a child ever been so excited for elementary school. But my god, my brain is dying of boredom. I'm literally going to _die of boredom_ before the world kills me.

Tatsuki and Ichigo became fast friends, (despite my attempts to sabotage any interaction they had), which obviously means Ichigo and I became friends by association, (again, despite my attempts to sabotage any interaction we had). What? Can you blame me? I don't exactly want to be involved with the protagonist of a shonun manga where people _die_. But true to his status, he is stupidly charismatic, and after he got over the fact that I punched him on introduction, we too became friends.

Aka: I really couldn't resist his puppy dog eyes.

Anyway, today marks my recorded timeline of one year closer to when the manga timeline starts. But I can burn that bridge when I get there. No point stressing about the end of the world as I know it until then. I mean, I'm six. There really isn't much I can do.

It's not like I'm even likely to develop any spiritual powers. Tatsuki didn't develop any in the manga and she spend a lot of time around Ichigo. Even though I can see ghosts, I don't think that's enough to help me generate super hollow killing powers. Like I said, I'll burn that bridge when I get there.


	3. Today (I Know Better)

Chapter Two

 _Today (I Know Better)_

That bridge comes very fast, which is weird to say considering I spent an entire year convincing myself I had plenty of time to sort things out.

Turns out, I did not have enough time to sort anything out.

And… well…

Ichigo's mum is dead.

It's… There wasn't anything I could have done. I mean, hell, I haven't even seen a hollow before. But I still feel a little responsible.

I could have talked to Ichigo. Maybe I should have told him that I could see ghosts too. I could have warned him or _something_.

But I didn't. I didn't want to change the plot too much, and saving Masaki would not only have changed the plot, but would have directly impacted the development of the _protagonist_.

I didn't really expect it to take so long for Ichigo to get over his mother's death though. It's been months now, and he hasn't been back to the dojo even once. He goes to the river and walks up and down and back up again. Over and over. I think he's hoping to see Masaki's ghost.

She's not there, I know. Sometimes Tatsuki or I join him. We can't bring her back, but we can remind him that other people still care about him and want him to get his shit together.

Is that harsh of me? It sounds like it's a bit harsh.

Whatever, he really needs to start going to classes again or he's going to end up a year behind us.

And I really need a plan to keep everyone alive in this upcoming war.

It's fine though, I still have six more years to come up with something.

MAYDAY! MAYDAY! I DO **NOT** HAVE SIX YEARS!

I FUCKED UP!

I FUCKED UP SO BADLY, HOLY SHIT, WHERE DID MY SIX YEARS DISAPPEAR TO!

OOOOOOOOOH, FUCK!

"H-Hello, Kuchiki-san… Nice to meet you…" I plaster my best fake smile onto my face as I greet the Shinigami.

"Oh! It's so nice to meet you to, uh…"

"Arisawa Tomoe," I bow slightly. Manners are important, my mum always said.

"Ah, Arisawa-san! Please treat me well!" She simpers.

 _Fuck me_ , _I am so screwed_. "Tomoe-san is fine, Kuchiki-san, there are two Arisawa's in this class after all," I offer, practically on autopilot.

Kuchiki Rukia isn't exactly what I was expecting. She's _very_ pretty, for one, with long dark eyelashes and inhumanly violet eyes that could pass for grey under minimal scrutiny. Her silky hair curls at her shoulders, and I can tell, even through her uniform that she is very fit. Like, she could probably deadlift me as easily as I could deadlift her. Which is saying a lot considering she's nearly five inches shorter than I am. And her grip strength is crazy, no wonder Ichigo blanched so hard when they shook hands, she probably crushed his dainty little fingers (don't let his delinquent looks fool you, he's a baby).

Behind her, Ichigo fumes quietly. His face is screwed up in a grimace (which is an expression only mildly different from his usual scowl) and his ears have turned pink. If I didn't know better, I would have though Ichigo had a crush. But I do, and this shinigami has made my friend very uncomfortable.

Probably not as uncomfortable as I am because I am _fucking terrified_. I mean how did I manage to blow six years without coming up with a plan?! Ok, ok, rapid planning sesh needs to happen, stat.

Still shell-shocked, I step around her and past Ichigo toward my seat near the window. "You look constipated," I tell him. He scowls at my insult, and leaves to introduce Rukia to the others.

I need a game plan, and I needed it yesterday. I mean, I still don't even have a method of fighting hollows! I haven't even seen a hollow!

Oh, well that's not quite true. I've seen the little hollows, the lizards, birds, and other small animal-like ones that seem to end up in Kurakara. They are mostly harmless and get out of the way when I'm around. And if they don't scram fast enough a good kick typically destroys them, but they are nothing like the monsters I sometime hear roaming the streets at night.

Rukia finishes introducing herself to the other students sitting around Ichigo before dragging the ginger out of the room. Poor boy, he doesn't even know his life is about to go to shit. Wow.

I really should just avoid all this if I can. Hmm. Maybe I can get Tatsuki and I expelled. It won't be great for my university prospects but it would get us out of harm's way. Or maybe a year studying abroad?

I shake my head and sit down hard in my seat, ignoring Mizoru's chatter about the new girl. I shouldn't leave everyone behind though. Tatsuki would never forgive me if I let anything bad happen to Orihime. Ah. I guess I'll have to include her in my plans.

Damn, what a pain.

"Tomoe-chan?" Orihime knocks a cheerfully beat on my desk, "What do you think of Kuchiki-san?"

"Hmm?" I rest my cheek in my palm and shrug lightly. "She seems aright. She sure moves quick, though."

Keigo laughs at my slight.

Orihime cocks her head at me in confusion. "Moves pretty quick? I don't know. She looked like she walks at a normal pace to me."

"I was referring to her accosting poor boys in the hallway. Better move quicker, Orihime, or Ichigo might end up off the market before you get a shot," I tease, only slightly in mockery.

Tatsuki swats me on the back of the head. "Don't be rude."

I shrug again, before extending an apologetic hand to Orihime and ruffling her hair slightly, "I mean: I'm sure you can woo him, Hime-chan."

Orihime flushes in embarrassment, but doesn't get the chance to stutter out a retort before the teacher calls the class to attention.

Ichigo and Rukia only return to class a period later and that certainly sends the gossip wheel spinning. "Ooh," I whisper in Orihime's ear, "They're already having quickies in a broom closet."

Hmm. Maybe I can convince them to elope and leave Kurakara and all its accompanying nonsense can leave with them. Ha. That'll be the day.

"Where do you think Kuchiki-san goes every day for lunch?" Orihime asks, holding her bento out towards me. "Want to try, Tomoe-chan?" The smell wafting sends my eyes watering.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Orihime. I don't really like spicy food very much," I turn down her offer. "And I'm pretty sure she's gone and broken into the boys' club. She probably sits on the roof with Ichigo and stuff. We can check it out tomorrow." I suggest, taking a bite of my own lunch. I can't avoid Ichigo forever, after all… Uh. And as for my plan… Well… Imma wing it.

"Yosh!" Tatsuki pumps her fist in the air, "Let's break up the boys' club!"

Chizaru shudders, "I'll pass. Thanks. Some of those guys are too intimidating for me. After Sado-san had all those accidents, I can't help but think that they must be trouble magnets."

Michiru nods in agreement, "Plus I heard they got in a fight with Oshima-san again. Kurosaki-san is scary. I don't know why you'd want to spend any time with him at all." She shoots a look at me Tatsuki, "ah, not that I'm judging your friendship with him or anything, you guys knew each other since you were little. I'm sure he's nice to you…" She trails off.

Tatsuki tries to wave her off but Chizaru cut in, "Yeah, Sado-san even has a tattoo! Is that even legal?"

"Chad's a cool guy, Chizaru," Tatsuki says, "you shouldn't be so harsh. And if Kuchiki-san gets along with them all, I don't see a problem with it."

Chizaru rolls her eyes, unapologetic. "Don't you usually go sit with them, Tomoe-chan? Why have you been hanging out with us, recently."

"Rukia has replaced me," I joke.

"Speaking of," Orihime rushes to the classroom window, "I smell Ichigo," she says.

"What are you, a bloodhound?" Tatsuki asks.

Orihime puts her foot on the windowsill for better leverage.

"Stop flashing the quad!" Tatsuki adds, "And this is the third floor, even if you could smell him, he's not going to come in through–"

She cuts off in a small scream when Ichigo appears in the window. On the third floor. Oh Tatsuki already pointed that out? Yeah, just driving it home. We're on the third floor and he "jumped, it's no big deal for me," he says.

He looks at the cluster of girls around the desks, it clicks suddenly. Duh, this is Kon. He hops off the window ledge and lands on my table, a hand around Orihime's shoulders. "Hello lovely lady," he moves to press his lips against her knuckles but I interrupt.

My hand fists into the back of his shirt and I pull him off the table and away from Orihime. "Oi, Ichigo. Didn't you go have lunch with Rukia? Don't tell me you ditched her, she'd be upset if you didn't wait for her." I try to subtly get him to back off.

"Oh, you're pretty cute too," he says, completely bulldozing over me, and his face was way too close. It's moments like this when I'm reminded that Ichigo is just on the puberty cusp of being really _really_ good looking. Which is a thought I need to _not_ be having ever, it'll be better for my mental health. Butgod could that boys' jaw could cut glass.

I stare at him, caught off guard, "Uuuuh."

Ichigo's body jolts backwards, dodging a desk. My sister stands fuming, already reaching for her next piece of furniture ammo. "Back off, why don't you!"

Orihime cowers behind Tatsuki, but the look on her face tells me that she too has realized something is off about Ichigo.

"Comedy gold," I say, watching Ichigo dodge another piece of furniture, "someone should film this for posterity purposes. Bust it out for his 21st."

Orihime giggles from her safe space behind my furious sister. Her ability to see the light in any situation is almost a redeeming feature.

Not-Ichigo jumps over another desk which joins the growing pile of abused furniture by the window. Shouldn't Rukia be here by now? She's really taking her sweet time and – Tatsuki sends a desk through the window.

That's going to be a black mark on her record for sure. Well… I tried to stick to canon but…

"Oi! You Mod Soul, stop antagonizing Tatsuki!" I snap, and almost immediately regret my word choice. Not-Ichigo is glaring at me and suddenly I am slung over Not-Ichigo's shoulder and watching the 3rd floor window disappears above my line of sight as we plummet to the concrete below. Orihime screeches from somewhere above me, and Tatsuki is leaning hallway out the window, eyes blow wide.

"Shit!" We hit the ground and Not-Ichigo's shoulder drives into my stomach, knocking the wind and what little lunch I ate out of me. I hope it got on his fucking shirt. He mightn't have felt the drop but I am definitely going to be bruised tomorrow.

"Hey, hey, put me down!" I rasp out, pounding a fist on Not-Ichigo's back and thrash.

"Put you down?" He asks, jostling me, elbowing me again. "Not a chance, Shinigami."

I pause in my struggle to get free, "Shinigami? I'm a human, you asshole! Not some mythical monster!" I protest. Shoot, I shouldn't have called him a mod soul. I was just trying to scare him off but this isn't a good situation for me. How the hell do I get out of this.

Not-Ichigo laughs, "You can't lie to me, Shinigami!" He glances over his shoulder, a scowl on his face and dodges off the main road and launches himself on to the balcony of the nearby middle school.

I scramble to my feet and put some space between us, automatically sinking into a defensive position. I'm probably not stronger then Not-Ichigo, but hopefully my training gives me enough of an edge to even us out if he decides to attack.

"Why'd you drag me up here for," I ask, and scan the roof. The railing is to my back and the only visible way off the roof is through a door twenty paces behind Not-Ichigo.

Not-Ichigo cocked his head to the side, an unusual gesture for Ichigo. "You've put me in a tricky spot." I narrow my eyes. "You see, there were so many cute girls in that classroom! But you're going to get in my way of kissing any of-" I nail my foot into his jaw which klicks shut angrily and probably (hopefully) caught his tongue.

I take the chance to sprint for the door. 10 feet from the door I hear a crack over the sound of my pulse and find myself on the floor. I really should have expected a counter attack. Grey concrete fills my field of vision and a roaring fills my ears.

Huh.

Nope. That's not the rushing blood. That's an actual roar.

Oh fuck me. What a day to be alive.

I roll over onto my back and quickly to my feet, eyes tracking to find the source of the noise.

Fuck. She's ugly.

Too many legs _and_ too many tongues. Dark chitin covers its millipede-like body and bone white mandibles protruded from the hollow's mask. From this distance I could tell that they were serrated and likely sharp as a razor, made more for shredding then slicing.

Oh my god. A stab of fear claws its way up my throat as the monsters' spiritual pressure prickles over my skin. I am going to die. Again. Never mind that in the pages of this story Ichigo arrives in the nick of time and even Kon can hold his own against a _weakling_ –the word hisses through my mind- like this. But I can't feel Ichigo at all. His spiritual pressure is usually a constant buzz, so thick in the air around him I can taste it in the back of my throat.

Now all I can feel is Kon and the hollow.

"Oooooh~ what a treat have I found today!" The hollow trills, mandibles shivering. "Two tasty little morsels for me to munch on!"

And just like that, the feeling of fear crumbles. A morsel? Me? HA! Fuck _that._

If I'm about to die I'm going to go out kicking and screaming. I could fight. I spent years learning how to throw a punch. I might not have powers, but I did have spiritual pressure. I had to if I could see the hollow.

I just had to use it. But my energy didn't work like Ichigo's. It just poured out of him effortlessly, fluctuating as he needed it. I felt like I was grasping at sand. No matter how hard I tried to grab it, it always fell through my fingers. But even throwing some sand in the eyes of this thing would help right now.

Kon is poised to my left, muscles tense and ready to defend himself. I slide into my own brace position and mentally grasp at my limited spiritual energy.

The giant hollow draws its heavy carapace fully over the terrace bannister, and I cringe when I realize that at the ends of each of the legs are human shaped hands. "Ooooh~" the hollow speaks again, "look at you go little girlie! So much POWER–" it lungs, dozens of fingers reaching for me.

I dive out of the way with a screech and Kon takes the opening offered by the hollows single-minded focus to drive a punishing heel into a crack between its armor. The hollow howls and a pair of hand wrap around his supporting ankle and launches him towards the terrace railing. His head collides with the metal and he slumps. Dazed. The creature's head whipped towards him to charge and its tail end whipped around into my ribs.

I stumble and grab at its back legs, dinging my heels in and throwing my whole body behind the weight of it, trying to sow it down as it barrels towards the downed mod soul. He's not getting _up._

And for a brief moment, the sand hardens to glass and I _pull_.

The cement tiles crack under my heels and the hollow jerks to a stop in my grip before my fingers slide through the chitin, slicing deep into the hollows body. It shrieks.

The mandibles slice through the air inches from my face and the glass turns back to sand. A tongue snakes out to grab me but Kon lands hard on its face, forcing its jaws to shut around its own appendage. The white bone easily severs the tongue and it writhes on the floor.

I feel drained and take a woozy step back as Kon launched into a barrage of attacks against the hollow. Something in the back of my mind is screaming but my vision is tunneling and my stomach cramps. My mouth waters so I spit.

Kon skids past me, screaming something but it sounds like it's underwater. All I can see is the hollow.

It roars, towering over me.

Vaguely, I hear myself roar back.

And suddenly a hand pulls me back and a bright flash of orange hair shoots past me, sunlight glinting off the blade in his hands. The millipede disintegrates like ash.

"Ichigo," I breathe, and take an unsteady step towards him. He's dark against the grey dust of the hollow but his reiatsu, a little colder than it used to be, draws a silver lining.

My mouth is still watering, oh god, am I about to throw up? Do I even have anything to throw up? No my stomach is empty, I didn't get to finish my lunch because of that rogue mod soul. And I threw it up already too. I'm famished now, all that running around and screaming.

I take another jerky step forward and my vision wavers a little. I feel lactic, like I've run a 5k at race pace.

"Arisawa-san!" A voice sounds too my left. Too close. Too _loud_. And his reiatsu- I whip around, "Look at Chappy!"

My vision fills with a flash-

-I wake up with my alarm blaring and Tatsuki banging on my door.


	4. Crack the Rosy Lens

Crack the Rosy Lens

 _Willful ignorance is a rope necklace for your friends_

Tomoe collapsed like a marionette with her strings cut, slumping face first towards the concrete roof. Ichigo rushed forward with an exclamation of alarm, but the strange man in the green hat caught her instead and gently lowered her to the ground.

"What the hell!" Ichigo blurts, taking in the new arrivals unsure if he needs to start swinging his sword again. Rukia - visible in his peripheral vision – is calm. That's probably an acceptable sign that his zanpakuto can stay sheathed.

The mod soul in his body also shoots Tomoe a concerned glance. He doesn't have a chance to run before the blonde is upon him, cane poking firmly _through_ his body, and popping out a little pill. Ichigo's body doesn't get the same careful treatment as Tomoe's. It hits the concrete hard, skull cracking against the floor. Ichigo can imagine the headache that'll greet him when he returns to it.

The man carelessly snags the pill from the air, and without addressing either Rukia or Ichigo, turns to his eclectic following: a mismatched pair of children, both armed, and an older muscled man. "Well, Mission complete! Let's go home guys!" He turns to the roof's exit, tossing the pill carelessly in the air and catching it again. One of the kids complains for half a moment before following the man across the roof.

This all happens in the span of a few seconds, and it takes a moment for Ichigo's brain to catch up. One thing at a time. Tomoe seems unharmed and she's super tough, always has been for as long as he's known her. She'll be ok for a few minutes. The mod soul body thief, on the other hand, was in the hands of a shifty looking guy. Priorities. He'd get the mod soul back first, then check Tomoe.

"Wha-wait! What are you gonna do with him?" He asks, before realizing the strange guy probably can't see him. He looks to Rukia, imploring her to step in, and almost gags on his tongue when the man turns fully to face him.

"I'll dispose of it. Why?" the man's shadowed eyes pin Ichigo in place. The rapid flop flop between somewhat a goofy looking guy (he's wearing geta, a horribly ill-fitting green shihakushō showing a rather large amount of chest, and a bucket hat) to someone who somehow activates Ichigo's fight or flight responses.

Dispose of 'it'? The mod soul didn't even get a humane pronoun? If gender was the issue here, the guy could have used 'they'. "Because he just spent that last few minutes fighting to protect my friend, you can't just… kill him! Who the hell are you to make that decision anyway?!"

Thankfully Rukia is on the same page. "Ichigo, this is Urahara. He's a greedy salesman," Rukia introduces only mostly mockingly, meaning the two of them were at the least familiar acquaintances. She grabs the soul pill from Urahara's hand when he is distracted trying to correct her introduction to something more flattering.

"K-Kuchiki-san! Don't take that!" The man, Urahara's, goofy disposition returns as he strikes an overly dramatic pose of surprise. His hands flex oddly as he belatedly realizes the pill didn't land in his palm like gravity would normally dictate.

"What, Urahara? Does your store steal items sold to customers without compensation?" Rukia pins him with a look Ichigo's seen only on wealthy older women preparing to go ape on an unfortunate teen working in retail.

"O-oh, well then, I'll pay?" He offers immediately, folding to Rukia rather quickly.

Ichigo has to appreciate Rukia's talent of making men twice her size feel very afraid of her. Not that he was afraid of her of course! She was just a little intimidating. Sometimes. He doesn't need shins anyways.

"No need," Rukia's smooth voice interrupts Ichigo's train of thought. "We're satisfied with the product. Besides, you are operating outside of the laws anyway, so you have no responsibility to collect him."

"We will look the other way if trouble comes knocking."

Ichigo thinks that statement is way too serious for the situation at hand. Not that he knows much about the spiritual business, that was definitely Rukia's field of expertise. She could handle it.

He turns his back on Urahara and his strange entourage, Rukia's got it covered, so he can safety redirect his attention to Tomoe. She's still firmly unconscious. From his few encounters with the memory replacer, starting with his own family, he knew she'd probably stay that way until the following morning.

Ichigo is selfishly glad that Urahara wiped her memories. While he doesn't necessarily agree it's the right thing to do, it's a relief that she won't remember being kidnapped by his body tomorrow. That would be mortifying enough that he would have to tell her the truth about the whole Shinigami thing.

Tell her the truth…

Now isn't that an idea. How many lies has he told his friends in recent weeks? When was the last time he even hung out with any his friends? Sure he saw Chad, Keigo, and Mizoru at lunch, but what about Tatsuki and Tomoe? He didn't go to the dojo anymore. Maybe childhood friendships really didn't last through high school. Between school work, hollow hunting, and keeping the whole thing a secret from everyone, he just didn't have the time.

Ichigo crouches down next to Tomoe and quickly scans for injuries. Her black hair is messy and windswept from her third story kidnapping attempt. There's a friction burn on her left knee, but it's not bleeding anymore. Her white school shirt has ridden up a little in the scuffle, not that she was ever very good about tucking it in away - she's gotten multiple dress code violations since he's know her. The edge of a purpling bruise is visible across her lower abdomen. She's had worse. Ichigo shoves a pair of calloused fingers against her neck, just to make sure. Her pulse feels normal. Strong and slow.

"Oi, Rukia?" He calls her over after hearing the rooftop door clang shut, "will the memory thing explain the bruises?"

Rukia crouches next to him and pulls up Tomoe's shirt to expose the bruise a little more. Ichigo winces. That'll hurt tomorrow.

"Probably. She's Arisawa-sans sister correct? Didn't you say the two of them get into fights pretty often?"

Ichigo scoffs and rocks into Rukia who barely budges despite his larger mass. "The last time Tomoe was banged up this badly it was eight on one and she gained instant fame the following day," Ichigo cocks his each and thinks for a moment. "We were 13 and they were older."

Rukia shoves him back and looks down at Tomoe for a second, "maybe it was ten this time?"

"Right." He sounds sceptical.

"The memory modifier is designed to align with a person's expectations. Remember Orihime-san? She recalled a bazooka being shot through her wall."

"Which no one believed."

"Tatsuki-san remembered a sumo-wrestler."

"Tatsuki's practical. A bazooka wielding wrestler shouldn't and didn't hold up."

"Fine! It's random, ok?" Rukia concedes. "It'll be fine."

Ichigo rolls his eyes and bumps Rukia again. He dodges away from a retaliatory slap and slinks over to his body, sitting into it without any difficulty. A headache explodes behind his eyes the moment he re-enters it. He squeezes his eyes closed tight and breaths deep until the nausea abates, then twists to his feet. He prods gently at the back of his skull, feeling for an egg. He has two. And his jaw is throbbing. And his back feels bruised. The mod soul really banged him up. The back of his pants are damp too… Is it… vomit? He twists to smell and gags slightly when the harsh tang of bile hits his nose.

Rukia stands herself. "I'm going to find roadkill to put the mod soul in. You should take Tomoe-san home."

"And say what exactly? It's the middle of the day. She should be in school."

"She's your friend, isn't she? Lie." Rukia looks at his as though he's dense. "Figure it out. I have to go while the memory of half your school now too. See you later." She says with a wave over her shoulder.

Ichigo scowls. "Whatever."

He picks her up without complaining any further to carry her home. It's warm today, he notices absently as he makes his way to the exit. The skin under his collar is already starting to sweat. Heatstroke could be a good excuse.

* * *

"We're going to be late!" Tatsuki pounds on my door one more time before thumping down the stairs. My alarm is playing an unholy tune right into my ear.

"Elephant!" I screech and cough when my voice comes out scratchy. My throats raw. Maybe I'm coming down with something? My whole body is pretty sore actually. Tender in that way that only coms

My clock blinks next to my bed. 7.34am illuminated in green neon. My alarm has been going off for 14 minutes. "Shit!" I really am going to be late! I fling myself out of bed. "Tatsu! Why didn't you get me up sooner!"

Her laugh echoes up the stairs. "Hurry up!"

"Fuck you!"

"Language," My mother chides, pulling my door open just as I pull on my skirt.

I whirl around, shrieking. "Knock first!"

"Shush! I used to wipe your butt." She hands me a clean white shirt. "Pressed this morning. And there's something for Ichigo-kun on the kitchen table. Remember to thank him."

I grumble out a thanks as I take the shirt. "Thank Ichigo for what? Mum?" I ask down the hallway. Her head is already disappearing down the stairs.

"For carrying you home yesterday!" She looks at me over her shoulder. "Remember to take care of yourself and stay hydrated, Tomo-tan! Not that it's a bad thing to have cute boys carry you home but…"

"Mum!" I shriek, "Ew! Ichigo is-"

"Yeah, yeah!" She waves me off, "I've heard it all before!"

I grumble under my breath. Five minutes later I stumble down the stairs myself, teeth clean and hair somewhat organized. Tatsuki is leaning over the table, school shoes already on. Mum must have left for work while I was finishing getting ready.

"Here," Tatsuki hands me a piece of toast, "because I am a good sister."

"Uhuh."

"And that's for I-chi-go-kuuuuun~" she mimes swooning and points at a small box on the table.

I just roll my eyes. "Stuff it, Tatsu, never gonna happen. Why the hell do I even need to thank him for." I grab the box and give it a small shake to hear the contents rattle around.

"They're cookies." Tatsuki tells me, pulling open the front door. "Don't you remember?"

Don't I remember what? Yesterday… feels kind of like a blur actually. The morning was normal. Literature, then double maths, and history before lunch… then weird. I would have had homeroom and PE but…

"You got into a brawl over lunch with that Oshima dude that keeps gunning for Ichigo. Asshole burst right into the classroom," my sister explains, obviously seeing my confused expression. "You put yourself between his goonies and Orihime, thanks for that, by the way."

The memory floods back. The guy was a pain in everyone's backside, honestly. Tatsuki and I had dealt with the orange haired wannabe yakuza moron before when Ichigo wasn't around to sort his own problems out. Usually he kept it to outside of school grounds, or in the courtyard at the very least. Walking right into a classroom armed with pipes and switchblades was ridiculous.

Ichigo would have been on the roof or something having lunch, which meant that the only people in the room were innocent bystanders. Of course, the moron had decided that breaking into a school with a mob would be the best time to try his luck with Orihime, and honestly, I couldn't let that stand.

I may not like Orihime very much. Personally I found her a little too precious for my taste, but Tatsuki absolutely adored her. What kind of sister would I be if I didn't step in and help her? Plus who just watches when someone is harassed? Girls need to protect other girls.

"Yeah, anytime."

"Ichigo brought you home. You know how he can be about responsibility and all that."

"Oshima knocked me out? What?!"

"Nah," she snorts in amusement, "Ichigo told Mum the truth. I think you just hadn't had anything to eat all day. You skipped breakfast and didn't get to eat lunch. Probably forgot to have water too. You kinda just slumped over after it was over."

"How embarrassing," I mutter. It is weird though… Usually the building is quite cool from the air con. Cool enough that wearing a blazer or vest inside is usually comfortable. Was it broken yesterday? "Wait. So I fought one of Ichigo's battles for him and he's the one who gets cookies?"

Tatsuki laughs.

"Let's eat them ourselves after school today," I grin, shaking the box again before dropping it in my bag.

We walk in silence for a few minutes. The school is only fifteen minutes from where we live so we only barely need to increase our pace on the mornings one of us is running a little late. "Hey, Tatsu?" I break the quiet. "Now that Rukia-san and Ichigo are dating, do you think Orihime will start looking for someone else?"

Tatsuki stumble but recovers quickly, reflexes kicking in. "I- wha- Orihime isn't- What?!"

I stifle a smirk at my sister's expense. Her crush on Orihime was subtle for sure, but sister knows best and all that. I wasn't going to tease her about it until she came to the realization herself. "I just mean… She's had a crush on him for ages, and he's never been interested. Probably the only guy in the entire school who doesn't have a thing for her."

She relaxes a little when she realizes I'm not targeting my conversation at her. "Ichigo is dense, he couldn't land a date if he tried," she grumbles.

"Are you sure? Him and Rukia-san are super cosy."

Our gossip spirals from there as we enter the school gates and climb the stairs to the third floor. The wooden door rolls across the metal track and I step into the classroom. We're still early, somehow.

My eyes flicker around the room, pausing on Ichigo's form. He's standing next to Keigo,leaning over Mizoru's desk and reading something off a phone. Probably some gross text exchange Mizoru's had with one of his girlfriends based on the look on his face. He glances up and waves slightly at us, when we make eye contact.

My memories, the real ones, hit me. I've been feeling off all morning. The scratchy throat. The bruises. There was no _gang fight_. It was a _hollow._

"Look, they aren't even talking to each other," Tatsuki whispers to me, eyes flickering between the epicentres of our gossip and forcefully drags me back to attention.

Rukia sits on the other side of her room with her face buried in what looks to be a horror manga.

"They go to lunch together all the time though."

Tatsuki leans in as we skirt around Ichigo so he doesn't over hear us. "The two pretend they barely even know each other."

"I don't buy it at all," I stir the pot. "Poor Orihime. She's just got no chance if Rukia is his type."

Tatsukisighs.

"Dark hair, short, flat as a board," I crack a teasing grin, and drop into my seat. "Sounds like you're still in the running."

Tatsuki flushes, "Shut up! Never in a million years!" and punches me in the arm. Her shout draws some attention but she waves our classmates off and hisses, "What about you, huh? Your hair is closer to Rukia's length than mine."

I just grin at her insinuation and dramatically run my fingers through the ends of my hair. "It's a good thing I'm growing it out then." I continue circling a strand of hair as I lean back in my seat, gaze settling on Ichigo.

Did Kon tell them about what I did? I blatantly outed myself as a spiritually aware human, that kind of thing doesn't just get swept under the rug in this town. Kon isn't exactly know for his subtlety either…

I don't have a choice anymore. One way or another- Ichigo glances up and catches my eye, a pinched look, concern maybe, on his face- I've already stuck my foot in it.

"Mornin'. How uh, how are you today?" Ichigo asks.

I consider the question for a second. Do I play dumb, or did Kon mention that I helped fight the hollow? Ugh. Knowing Kon he probably babbled everything.

In that case... "I had a dream about you last night. You were waving your sword around."

Ichigo flushes redder than his hair and Orihime's head whips around so quick I heard her neck crack. Even Tatsuki chokes a little.

I let the comment sit for a half second before I add, "You fought a giant caterpillar monster that looked like something out of the Human Centipede."

"Oh!" Orihime squeaks, realizing I wasn't actually making an innuendo. "That sounds like a nightmare!"

I hum and watch Ichigo swallow uncomfortably, eyes fluttering around. He always was a mediocre liar. He should work on that.

"Nah, it was fine Orihime!" I smile at her, "Between my awesome karate and Ichigo's kendo skills it was no problem. Really, it felt more like the kinda dream you talk about that the kind I usually have."

Tatsuki huffs, "You're weird, Tomoe."

I wave my hand in a half-hearted rude gesture, eyes focusing forward and closing my mouth just soon enough to not be included in Ochi-sensei's first rampage of the day.

* * *

"Kurosaki," I jog up next to him as he leaves the school grounds on his way home for the evening. Tatsuki has karate club tonight and Rukia isn't anywhere in sight, making now the perfect time to talk to Ichigo.

I probably could have played dumb and just pretended that yesterday really was all a dream, but… I spent most of the day remembering. Writing down every scrap of information I could remember from reading Bleach nearly two decades ago. My knowledge has more than a few gaps. The general arcs I remembered, but the details were guesses at best. Estimations with process of elimination employed to guess what battles were fought and what the outcomes were. Powers and names and villainous plots outlined to the best of my limited memory. I couldn't remember most of it. But… but I could remember Tatsuki.

She's my sister, of course I could remember every single instance she was ever hurt. She's the catalyst for Orihime's powers. She's there one two instances where Orihime uses her attack fairy. Tatsuki faces two arrancar. She's in Kurakara when Aizen is loose. She's already been injured by a hollow and I wasn't even _there_. I _forgot_.

How shit of a sister does that make me? I could have done something and instead Tatsuki was hurt by Orihime's brother and I didn't even remember that it was going to happen. I didn't notice that it happened at all! Tatsuki is defenceless. She's a karate monster but that doesn't protect her from hollows she's never been able to see. She's already been injured once and I can't let that happen again. Orihime's powers are incredible if I remember currently. But she's soft at heart. Too kind to fight properly.

I can't sit on the side-lines. Not when Tatsuki is the price I have to pay for sticking my head in the sand.

"Oi, Ichigo!" I call, louder, when he doesn't hear me the first time.

He pauses and turns slightly, "Tomoe, uh, what's up?"

"Walk with me," I grab his arm on the way past, hauling him along until he falls into step with me.

"S-sure?"

Glancing over my shoulder once to check we are out of hearing range, I spot Tatsuki at the entrance to the gym already dressed in her training gi. Orihime is with her, also in her gi. Orihime is kind, competent, and it's not _enough._ My resolve hardens.

"I've been able to see ghosts my whole life, you know? I know you can too. I've also been able to see those monsters."

"W-w-what? Tomoe that's-" he stutters out, eyes darting around.

I keep my grip on his arm firm so he can't make the stupid decision to bolt. "Crazy? Yeah it is. So is trying to fight them with a sword, but you seem to be doing ok with that."

"I don't know what you're talking abou-"

I level a glare at him. "You're a bad liar. I was there. I remember it. You are going to tell me everything." And then you're going to train with me so I can fight the hollows too. I'll raise that later. If I ask now he'll outright refuse because of his stupid hero complex. He'll tell me it's dangerous (as if I don't know that) and then we'd have to have an argument about it. Which is just a waste of time considering I know I'll win.

He looks at me for a long moment, assessing me. I stare right back, refusing to back down. Finally, he exhales. Shoulders slumping forward in defeat. Ichigo can be stubborn, but he's honest and fair. "Fine I'll tell you what I know."

I nod once. "Good," and then laugh, it's a little forced but it helps lighten the mood a touch. "For a second I thought I was gonna have to beat the information out of you!"

He chuckles slightly, "Right," and pauses. "Can I have my arm back now?"

My hand flexes slightly around his elbow and I realize I'm holding him hard enough that it probably hurts. "Oops," I let him go.

He doesn't run which is good. We walk in silence for a few minutes before I get impatient. "So?"

"So what?"

"So start talking!" I nudge him in the ribs. "What are those monsters."

"Umm. You know Rukia right?"

I give him a flat stare.

"She's sort of the expert on this stuff. She can explain it better than I can."

"I guessed as much. It was a little weird for a transfer student to show up half way through the semester. It's even weirder for you to make friends as quickly as you did with her. And she's just strange in general." I explain, trying to ease Ichigo into the conversation. "I'm asking you, not her though."

"Ah. Yeah. She's a little out of date," his lips upturn in a small smile.

"What are the monsters?" I ask again as we turn the corner. Ichigo's place is only a few blogs away, but the streets are empty enough that isn't probably ok to talk openly like this.

His grin falls away and replaced a more serious expression that commonly graces his face. "They're called Hollows. They're the corrupted souls of people who aren't able to move on."

"And because they're lost souls you stab them? Brutal. I always knew you were secretly a stab first talk second kinda guy." I grin, taking the opportunity to tease Ichigo.

He defends, "No! The sword is for purifying them! I'm _helping!_ "

"You _stab them_ , Ichigo. Stab them straight to heaven." I jab him in the ribs, right where I know he's ticklish.

He squawks and pulls an arm down to defend, smacking me in the shoulder with his bag in the same movement. For a moment, I'm reminded of the time before Rukia, when we all used to walk from school to the dojo. Tatsuki, me, and Ichigo closest to the street. Three bodies inconsiderately taking up all of the space on the sidewalk cracking jokes, sharing insults, and sneaking jabs and pinches through each other's guards, occasionally brawling with the local thugs. I miss it.

"It's not like that," Ichigo pulls me from my thoughts. "if I don't fight them and purify them then the hollows will eat normal souls. I'm a Shinigami. It's my job to protect the spirits and make sure they move on."

"Shinigami?" I ask, playing dumb. "In the Ningyō jōruri sense? Are you leading me to commit a double suicide? Bleach or lynching? Ooh, we could use the sword."

Ichigo makes a weird face, halfway between a grimace and an awkward smile, forcing a laugh.

I roll my eyes. Ichigo was born in 1985. He does not appreciate my reincarnated millennial humour. "I'm joking dude. A Shinigami is more like a guardian right? From the Hollows. Do you help the spirits around town too?"

"You're dark."

"It's not my fault you have no sense of humour."

"I do too!"

"Clearly not enough to appreciate the prime gallows humour of being a 15-year-old Shinigami. Did Death come bang on your door one night and offer you a promotion?"

"Technically she stepped through my wall. I kicked her."

"You kicked Rukia? Damn you really are a delinquent."

"I thought she was a burglar! She had a sword!"

"Whatever you say! You gonna answer my question now?" We pause at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change and I take the chance to point at the small vase of flowers left on the other side of a road by mourning parents. It was a hit and run. The spirit of the little girl who used to be there hasn't been around in ages. Without her presence, the air feels unusually devoid of reiatsu.

"Ah, yeah. I think Rukia sent her on to Soul Society before we met. I haven't seen her around since I gained Shinigami powers. I do the same thing now." We cross the road and start down the street towards the Kurosaki clinic at the other end of the block.

"Thanks good. I was worried when I started noticing less and less spirits hanging around."

"Don't worry, I sent them on. Perk of being able to see ghosts for so long, I guess. I know where all the spirits hang around, and a lot of them come to me at the clinic too. It's a pain," he shrugs, but the tiny smile lets me know he's secretly glad to be able to help.

"How'd you end up a Shinigami anyway?" I finally ask as we round the last corner onto the Kurosaki Clinic's block.

"Ah… To be honest, I don't really understand it myself. A hollow attacked my family…" Ichigo trails off, eyes trained on the ground, "I was powerless to do anything. It had Yuzu."

"Oi-" I elbow him- "don't give me that sad bullshit. Yuzu's fine. So is Karin, so don't mope!"

"Hey!" My tactical distraction works and the downcast look evaporates in place of irritation. "Just listen!" He glares at me and I stick my tongue out but don't interrupt again. "Rukia saved us by lending her powers to me. Except I can't give them back, so she's hanging around until hers return the natural way. Or something like that."

"Ah, can I guess that this happened on the day the truck hit your house?"

"Mm."

"I'm glad you're all ok."

"Yeah. Me too." The sombre attitude returns for a second before he shakes it off, "Anyway! Rukia's blackmailed me into doing her job for her. I don't even get paid or anything," he grumbles before shoving a hand in his bag to fish out his keys. "You wanna come in?" He offers as we turn onto the walkway to the front door.

"That was my plan," I agree. "I still have more questions. Is your dad here?"

"Uh, yeah probably."

"Cool, I'm going first. Chivalry and all that crap, right?" I slide in front of Ichigo and beam when he doesn't bother protesting. I was not subtle in my opinions on how Isshin's treated Ichigo most of his life. It's not that Isshin didn't love Ichigo, I'm sure he did, truly. It's just that hes a bad father. At 15 years old, Ichigo's done more to raise his sisters than Isshin did. And that's not even touching on the constant paranoia Ichigo's developed whenever his father is near in the event of a "surprise attack".

Ichigo pulls the door open and I slide in, arm already up to deflect the high kick into the doorframe. In the same movement I swinging my leg out to sweep Isshin off his balancing foot and drop him onto the ground. "Ah, nice to see you Kurosaki-san!" I smile politely down at him, but don't offer a hand to help him up.

"Stop doing that, bastard!" Ichigo yells from over my shoulder. "What if I brought someone home that couldn't defend themselves?!"

Isshin ignored him and bounced to his feet. "Tomoe-chan! I haven't seen you in so long! I had thought my idiot son had scared you and your sister off!"

"He hasn't managed that yet." I step past him and kick off my shoes to leave at the door. "We have some homework to do together," I explain and step further into the house.

Ichigo follows me past Isshin. "We'll be studying upstairs. Don't bother us!" He ushers me to the escape route up the stairs and into his room, ignoring his father's comments about keeping the door open. Fortunately, Isshin's known me long enough that he doesn't make any comments teasing Ichigo about having a girl over.

Ichigo slams the door shut behind us and stomps over to his bed, dropping his bag on the floor before flopping dramatically onto the mattress. "Sorry about him."

I shrug, "not your fault," and claim the desk chair as my own.

"You said you had more questions?" Ichigo readjusts so he's sitting cross-legged facing me.

I think for a moment. I don't need any answers really. I know the gist of everything, probably more than Ichigo does if I'm being honest. There's no point in grilling him. I can get more info from Rukia. What I really need is an introduction to Urahara though, which means there only one more thing.

"What happened to the thing possessing you yesterday? Did the weirdo in the hat…" I trail off.

"He's alive, don't worry," Ichigo reassures me. "I didn't let-" he pauses to think, lips moving soundlessly as he struggles to recall the name, "Utemaro? Uh. I forgot, but he's the shopkeeper Rukia got Kon from. I didn't let him take him."

"Kon?"

"Kaizou Konpaku is what he is. So Kon is his name, cuz Kai sounds cool and he doesn't deserve that after dragging my reputation though the mud."

"I dunno, I kinda liked him. He was cute," I tease.

"I-he-I he was in my body!" Ichigo wails, flushing. "You-"

I interrupt before he can jump fully to conclusions. "Yeah but you're not cute at all. All mean and grouchy."

"That's why you like me!" He points a finger between my eyes, embarrassment turning to indignation.

"Is it?"

"HYPOCRITE!" He howls and I burst into laughter.

Ichigo joins me a moment later when I replicate his face and voice. It spirals from there until we are both gasping, heaving great big lung fulls of air, cackling over nothing particularly funny at all. Ichigo nearly tips himself off his bed at one point with the force of his laughter and that sends me into another fit.

It takes us several minutes to calm down again, and distantly I wonder how long it's been since I last heard Ichigo laugh. He's always so serious in public and now that he's hollow hunting with every spare minute, he always seems too exhausted to even smile most days.

Ichigo's been one of my best friends for years, and in the last few weeks it feels like our friendship was a fever dream – like it never happened at all. This is the first time we've spoken properly since he became a Shinigami. I miss this.

I'm not really a jealous person. Jealously is a stupid, useless emotion. But I won't pretend there isn't a little twist of something in my gut every time Ichigo blows me off for hollow hunting. Fuck. It's _good_ to finally be on the same page again.

"Why are you smiling like that? You look dumb," Ichigo interrupts my thoughts before they can degenerate into a depressing state.

I shrug a shoulder, slightly self-conscious, "shuddup. I'm allowed to just be happy."

"Heh," a teasing glint enters his eyes.

I roll mine and groan, "don't fucking start."

"I didn't say anything!"

"I can see you think!" The banter flows easily and smoothely. I want to ignore the more serious matters in place of goofing off and arguing for the rest of the night over homework. (Ha! That's how you know the worlds about to go to shit. When homework is the preferable option.) But I'm not a pussy and I've already avoided the issue for too long.

"Ichigo?"

"What?"

"When the hollow attacked your house…"

His attention focuses immediately, the grin exchanged

"You'd do anything to keep your sisters safe, right? Even fight monsters?"

Ichigo draws himself up. Even sitting across from me he feels large. His reiatsu clogs the whole room and shudders across my skin. If he feels like this to me and he's barely a rain drop compared to the hurricane he'll grow into… I need to do this for Tatsuki if not for anyone else.

"Yeah. Yeah, I would." His voice is unyielding.

"I'd do anything for Tatsuki," I return, spoken like a promise.

He nods, "I know."

"I need you to train with me, Ichigo. When I was up there with Kon-" I can feel my grip on the chair tighten and I force myself to let go- "I was useless. Tatsuki's already been hurt before. I can't let that happen again."

"I would never let anything happen-"

"You can't be everywhere! You aren't always going to be _enough_!" I interrupt, my shout surprising the both of us.

"Tomoe-"

"No! You listen Ichigo-" I slam to my feet, scrapping the chair across the floor in my haste- "I need to do this. I need to know Tatsuki will be safe, that I can keep her safe. You did the same thing o don't you dare tell me no."

"Tomoe!' I finally let him speak, "Okay. I'll train with you, of course I will. If it's this important to you-"

"-It is."

"Then obviously I'll help you." He slides to the edge of the bed, annoyingly almost eye level with me even while sitting.

"You will?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?" He smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners.

I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment. Then two. "Yeah. Yeah. Okay." I nod. "We've got this."

* * *

 **Authors Note**

I'm fuckin BACK! Yay! Round of applause for my returning motivation!

I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I have written SO MUCH for this story. The bad news is that its all LITERALY CHPTERS away from happening because its too far in the future. Sorry y'all. Bear with me!

Just so you know, this story is being cross updated from AO3 to here, so sometimes there are delays on my posting here. If you want to stay as updated as possible, /works/19264984/chapters/47295490 is where Ill be.

Chapter info:

So, this is probably one of the times that I accidentally butchered the timeline. I pretty sure that _Wasted But Wanted (_ the chapter with Kon) takes place on the 15thof June, and then the next day is the 16thwere Ichigo prepares to take the following day off for his mother's anniversary. This isn't really explicit, so I've just shoved an extra day in there and that's were this chapter takes place. Nice!

As always, please leave a comment or question behind to motivate me into writing more!


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